Real Life
by MyQuantumTheory
Summary: When the bullet hits her Kevlar, he knows in his heart. When Emily helps him figure it out, he knows in his head. Now he just has to figure out what to do about it. Morgan and Garcia, sitting in a tree... (Not literally. But maybe one day. Good god I'm bad at summaries.) Title is from the song that inspired bits and pieces of the story.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: I didn't expect to start this yet, but I started a separate tumblr today for fanfic (whilst aggressively procrastinating - check it out at .com) and I came across some discussion about Morgan/Garcia. And I've been having lots of Morgan/Garcia thoughts because I love their relationship just the way it is but I do think there's some unexplored potential, so I thought I'd try to explore it. And also this song came on, and yeah.**

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**You never need fear a thing in this world  
****While I have a breath in me, blood in my veins  
****You never need fear a thing in this blue world  
_- Real Life (Angel)_,Elbow  
**

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Penelope's hands were still shaking when she started to climb the steps onto the jet, following JJ. She felt a hand at her lower back, and she smiled. It made the graze on her face sting but she didn't care. Derek Morgan hadn't left her side since she'd been sitting on the back of the ambulance – not that she'd have expected anything else – and his presence made her feel safe, like she hadn't just been shot out of the blue by a psychopathic killer. Not to mention he smelled pretty exquisite and his hand at the base of her back was warm and strong, and she wasn't going to bother telling him she had a sensitive spot right there. They climbed the rest of the stairs, and she took a seat, wincing when the shift in position hurt her bruised ribs.

"Get some sleep," he said, his voice soft and low.

She sighed, leaning her head back. She'd pulled an all-nighter the previous night going over surveillance footage, and then the bullet had hit her Kevlar a few hours ago and the adrenaline was only just starting to wear off. Now she was shaky and sore and tired.

"I mean it," he said. "Sleep."

He squeezed her shoulder, and her hand came up to meet his, giving it a quick reciprocal squeeze. "Only if you do," she said. He nodded in agreement, sitting down across the aisle from her, and she grinned wickedly. "See you in my dreams."

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Morgan took his headphones off – usually listening to music relaxed him on the jet, helped him get to sleep, but right now it was just making him restless. He switched off his iPod and turned to look at Garcia. She was asleep, her face a little scraped from hitting the ground, but it could have been so much worse. They shouldn't have brought her out here… But then they wouldn't have solved it without her here. He suppressed a shudder as he tried to ignore the _what if_s piling up in his mind. And also tried to ignore the almost overwhelming desire to go over there and pull her into his lap and cover her face with kisses, find the bruised ribs under her blouse and bandages and kiss the pain away.

"Is she okay?" Emily asked from opposite him at the table, snapping him back to reality.

"I don't know," he replied.

Emily nodded, and tilted her head. "Are _you_ okay?" she asked, lowering her voice a little although everyone else was asleep.

"Yeah," he said. "Just can't sleep."

She raised her eyebrows. "Okay." She sat back and looked out of the window for a few minutes, expecting him to put his headphones back on. When he didn't, she looked back at him and said, "Hey, Morgan?"

"Yeah?"

"I know you feel responsible for her. We all do. But this is something else, isn't it?"

He met Emily's questioning gaze for a second before turning back to look at Penelope. She was far less used to sleeping on the jet than the rest of the team and it showed – she was slumped awkwardly, her arms folded on the table and her head resting on them. Her back was going to hurt later, he found himself thinking absently. Back pain on top of everything else that had happened these last few days – he should wake her, recline her seat – or he'd just have to massage away the pain when he took her back to her place… He heard Emily clear her throat and turned back, meeting her eyes with his best poker face. "What do you mean?"

She raised her eyebrows. "Come on, Derek. I learned a long time ago not to question the relationship you have with Garcia, and I'll stop any time you ask me to. But I saw you when that shot fired, when she dropped…" He frowned, and she shrugged. "You know, I used to wonder how you could possibly still be single."

He raised his eyebrows playfully. "Well, thank you princess."

She rolled her eyes, smiling. "Don't flatter yourself. At first I figured you were just a player – didn't like to be tied down. But that's not it, it is?"

"Isn't it?" he said. Immediately he realised answering a question with a question wasn't going to work on her, and he sighed. "So what is it then?"

"I think you've set her as your standard," Emily said quietly. "And I don't think anyone can measure up."

He opened his mouth to say something, to object or deflect or something, he didn't even really know.

Emily held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "Like I said, stop me any time. But I think that you _do_ want to settle down. I think you're a romantic. You want somebody who will let you take care of her but will shoot you down when you need to be shot down. Someone who makes you feel good about yourself, but challenges you to be better. And who's confident and strong and balances you out. And god knows we're all looking for someone who can handle this job…" She watched his face carefully for signs she was overstepping, but he was just staring back at her, his blank expression starting to crack, revealing a deer-in-headlights look. "It's not a bad thing, Morgan. She's pretty great. You're in trouble if you're holding out for someone better…"

For the first time, he stepped in. "I'm not waiting for someone _better_," he objected, starting to get annoyed. She must know that wasn't it.

"Then what?" she pushed.

He looked at her angrily but she held his gaze with raised eyebrows. He gave up and looked back at Penelope. "Not better," he insisted more quietly, watching the rise and fall of Penelope's back. _She could've died_.

Emily recognised defeat when she saw it, so she turned to the side, bringing her feet up onto the seat beside her, leaning against the window and opening her book. "I won't push it," she said. "But just think about it. And if you want to talk, you know where I am, okay?"

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"Come on sweetness, I'm driving you home."

"Derek, seriously, I'm fine."

"Nobody said you're not. Now get in the car."

Penelope rolled her eyes as Morgan took her go-bag from her hand and put it in the trunk of his car. "Now you're just stealing my stuff."

He opened the passenger door. "Well now you have no option, do you? If you ever want to see your delicates again, get in the car."

She held her pout for a few seconds then got in, grinning. "What would I do without you, my knight in shining armour?"

"We'll never know, will we?"

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He walked her to her door, carrying her go-bag. She turned the key in the lock, opened the door, and then turned to him, resting a hand on his chest. "Thanks," she said. "For taking care of me even though I totally don't need it."

He smiled, brushed his thumb down her cheek, trying to pretend his heart wasn't beating even faster than it usually would when they were this close. The combination of hearing the shot and seeing her hit the ground and everything Emily had said on the plane was making it a whole lot harder to bury his feelings. "Penelope you know I'll always take care of you. Even though you totally don't need it."

She made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a sob as she dropped her head to his chest and stepped closer. He dropped her bag inside and wrapped his arms around her, hugging her to his chest. "Hey, hey, what's up?" he said into her hair. "Come on, let's get inside. I'll make you hot chocolate and we can talk, okay?"

"Derek, I could've died," she said, looking up at him with her eyes swimming, her cheeks streaked with tears.

"You're okay," he said soothingly, his hand on her lower back again, encouraging her through the door. He closed it behind them and picked her bag up. "Where do you want this?" he asked.

She pointed to the door to her bedroom, wiping tears from her cheeks. "You don't need to -"

"Will you quit that?" he said. "Sit down. I'll be right there."

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**So yeah, thank you for reading, and please leave reviews! Let me know what you think. I love their interactions but I'm not used to writing them so any feedback is massively appreciated, I really want to get to grips with writing them.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note: Yeah the url for my tumblr disappeared in the last chapter and I didn't notice for days, so oops. But it's on my profile :) Anyhow, here's chapter two. I hope you like it. I don't own Criminal Minds. And please please leave reviews!**

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Penelope brought her legs up onto the sofa, wincing when the movement annoyed her bruises. She held her cushion and cried herself out, slowly replacing _I could have died_ in her mind with _I am here and so is he_. For now it was even okay that every time she looked at him she wanted to grab him and pull him toward her and never let go, because she was alive and Derek Morgan was in her kitchen, making her hot chocolate… She gathered herself, cuddling the cushion, and wiped away the last tears. She prided herself on not dwelling on the bad stuff, so she wouldn't dwell. She'd just grab life and live it like it should be lived… She heard him coming and closed her eyes briefly. _Does living life like it should be lived involve kissing Derek Morgan on the mouth right now?_

She swallowed the thought as he sat down beside her and handed her an oversized mug. There was whipped cream on top and he'd dusted it with chocolate powder, and it looked spectacular. "You're spoiling me," she said, and took a sip, conscientiously avoiding getting cream on her nose although the wicked part of her brain wondered vaguely whether he'd lick it off if she asked. She closed her eyes with a satisfied 'mmm'. "You statuesque vision of domestic perfection, you steamed the milk. Steamed it. You're my hero, did I ever tell you that?"

"You might've mentioned it," he replied, smiling back. They sat in silence for a while as she drank the hot chocolate, then when she started to reach over to put the mug on the coffee table he said, "Hey, hey, I'll get that." He took it and placed it down for her, and when he looked back at her she was smiling at him, her head tilted. "What?"

"Oh nothing," she replied, and his heart stuttered a little when she flashed him a big sparkly-eyed smile. He was going to have to get a hold of himself – back and forth flirtation with Garcia was pretty much his favourite part of his life, and if he was going to start melting into a puddle every time she smiled at him they'd have to tone it down. And he'd have to transfer to Alaska.

"I'm sure," he said, ruffling her hair. "How are those ribs feeling?"

"Bruised," she replied, pouting.

"Is there something I can do?"

"_Welllll_," she grinned, drawing it out and smiling widely when he laughed and shook his head. "I kid. Sort of. I'll be okay, you get home. It's late."

"I can sleep on the c-"

"Go _home_, Derek. They're just bruises. I'll be okay."

He hesitated, unwilling to leave her when she'd been crying on the doorstep not long ago. But maybe some distance would help him get his feelings back under control. He knew he loved her. He had loved her for a long time, and they had played around and it had been lighthearted and simple and fun for a long time. But Emily was right – somewhere along the line it had changed. At some undefinable point, he'd found himself lying in bed every night wishing she was there, wishing he could just hold her, wake up with her in the morning, ask about her dreams – and today, hearing that shot and seeing her go down… It was taking all of his restraint to stop himself from grabbing her and kissing her, lifting up her blouse and unwrapping the bandages to kiss her bruises, running his hands all over her body to convince himself she was really here, really alive…

Penelope was waving her hands in front of his face. "Hey. Yoo-hoo. Earth to Agent Morgan. Right here, spacecake."

He grabbed her hand and kissed it, then got up. "Okay, I'm going, I'm going… You're sure you don't need any help with anything?"

She smiled, stood up with him and squeezed his hand. "I will live. I will survive these bruises and I will wake to hack another day." She wrapped her arms around his waist and smiled as his arms closed around her. She rested her head against his chest and sighed. "On the other hand this is pretty comfortable, so if you just leave your pecs behind…"

He closed his eyes, holding her as close and as tight as he could without hurting her. "No can do, baby, but just say the word and my whole body stays here." He felt her smile against his chest, and the temptation to tip her chin up and kiss her was almost overwhelming. He had to leave, he couldn't risk this…

She stepped back, dropping one hand to hold his and reaching up with the other. She ran a thumb over his cheek, opening her mouth to tell him to go home. But the words caught in her throat as he stared back at her. In the time they'd known each other, they'd had a lot of eye contact, and she thought she'd seen everything their eye contact had to offer. But she had never seen this before. There was something new in his expression, something intense and uncertain, and she didn't have to be a profiler to know it was different. For the first time ever, she found herself _wishing_ she was a profiler – it wasn't often she didn't know what was going on in his head, and this was most definitely one of those times. Before she had time to try to figure it out, he squeezed her hand and turned away, started to walk toward the door.

"Hey!" she said, limping behind him. "What was that?"

"What was what?" he asked, already out the front door, not quite meeting her eyes.

"You just… I don't… I don't know, it was _weird_. You just took off. Are you okay? Did I say something?"

"I'm good," he said, trying to smile. Her wide-eyed expression was just amplifying everything – his guilt and protectiveness and the irresistible, undeniable beauty of those big brown eyes. "Goodnight, beautiful."

She smiled back weakly, unconvinced. She stared at him for a few more seconds. "You sure?"

"Positive."

"Okay… Well, sweet dreams my guardian angel." As he turned and walked away, she caught something sad in his face. That much she could read. She opened her mouth again, almost called out for him, then stopped herself. If he didn't want to tell her what was up, she shouldn't push him.

But she _always _pushed him. Why not now? Just because ever since he stood by her side at the back of the ambulance and rubbed her shoulder a little, she'd wanted to grab him and pull him down on top of her and kiss him until he forgot his name, and wake up every morning and do it all over again? She swallowed, watching him walk away. With every step he took, the realisation that she wasn't going to be able to suppress it this time got stronger and stronger, because she was getting more and more convinced that the _something_ she was feeling was the _something_ she had seen in his eyes.

He was out on the street before she did it. She threw caution to the wind. She closed her eyes and prayed she hadn't misinterpreted, because she would feel like such an idiot if she had, and this had the potential to ruin her relationship with her best friend in the world... "Derek!" she called. She saw him turn, walk back, concern all over his face. "Um. The word," she said, meeting his eyes, searching. "I'm saying the word. To request that your whole body stay here?"

He smiled. "Then my whole body stays here, sweetness."

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**Thank you so much for reading and please review! Comments/suggestions?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you so much to everyone who's left reviews on the first two chapters! Here goes...**

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She closed the door behind them and wrapped her arms back around him. He held her close, his hand rubbing up and down her back. He knew this was it – there was no avoiding this now, no going back, and it was terrifying. If she rejected him… If this went wrong… If he wasn't what she wanted, if he screwed it up, if he wasn't good enough… There was so much to lose. _Everything_ to lose. She was everything.

She took him by the hand and led him back to the sofa, pulling him down with her. She left a gap between them but angled herself toward him so her knee was just barely touching his, keeping them connected. "Okay, you. Out with it. What's eating Derek Morgan? Why do you look so sad?"

"Because you got _shot_, baby girl…"

"It didn't even reach my flesh," she said, tilting her head to try to catch his gaze.

He determinedly avoided looking up. "It could've."

"I know. I am so aware of that. But it didn't. And you didn't act like this that time I actually did get shot, so I'm not totally convinced that's the problem… So what's with the sad face?" There was a long pause, and she reached out, grabbing his arm then sliding her hand down to hold his. "Huh? What aren't you telling me?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing, it's… I feel responsible. I should've -"

"Because you're a big strong crime-busting FBI agent who breaks down doors and protects damsels in distress?"

She expected a smile, at least a reluctant one, and she was thrown off guard when he turned to her with a completely serious expression. "Not _damsels in distress_, Penelope. _You_. I don't expect to be able to protect everyone, but I _should_ be able to protect _you_."

The intensity in her eyes made her stutter a little. She squeezed his hand. "Derek, I – the whole – the entire team was there. I was as safe as I could possibly have been, and that's why I'm okay now."

He shook his head. "I don't mean…"

She waited, pulled his hand into her lap and held it in both of hers. "What do you mean?" she prompted after a few seconds of silence.

He turned a little toward her and settled his other hand over hers. "I don't mean as an FBI agent, Penelope. I mean as…"

He closed his eyes and when he opened them they were looking straight into hers. Her breath caught and something inside her stuttered and she started to think she might know what she meant, and it was a dizzying, terrifying, wonderful thought. "Derek," she choked.

Her body moved without any conscious thought. She shuffled a little closer to him, let go of his hand and traced her fingers over the soft skin at the back of his neck. He raised a hand up, brushed his thumb over the graze on her cheek. "I'm sorry you got hurt," he said softly, so close she could feel his breath on her face. She shook her head, unable to form words, because his touch was sending warm, tingling shivers through her whole body. He just stared back at her, his eyes darting down to her lips without his permission. There was a split second of hesitation, and then she chickened out and dropped her head to his shoulder, cuddling into him.

He let out a breath and kissed the top of her head. "Baby girl, if anything happened to you…"

She looked back up and her eyes were swimming with tears. "Derek?" she said, her voice wobbly. "What do you call it when… When you have a friend you love with all your heart? And you think they're hot as hell and they make you smile like nobody else in the world ever could, and light up your dark days like they're the freaking sun itself? And they make you feel safe, and loved, and you know that if that person is there then everything is going to be okay?" His eyes widened and his lips parted a little like he might say something, but he couldn't. He just stared back at her, and her tears spilled over. "And… And you get shot and you feel the bullet hit you and for a second you think you might be dead and as you go down you think 'oh god I hope I told that person I love them today'…"

She dissolved then, and he pulled her forward, rubbing her ribs gently when she gave a little gasp of pain amid sobs. He pressed his lips to the top of her head again, this time with his eyes closed against the stinging feeling of tears. "I know that feeling," he said softly. "I call it _Penelope_."

She smiled, still crying hard, the movement hurting her ribs more and more with each sob. He felt her tense and kissed the graze on her cheek softly then pulled back, holding her at arm's length. "Hey. I don't want you to break those ribs." He lifted her chin up and brushed tears from her face with his thumbs, sending a fluttering feeling from her chest to her throat. She closed her eyes, taking slow breaths. "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

A soft smile spread on her face, and her hands came up to hold his wrists. "Derek?"

"Yeah?"

She opened her eyes and met his, the concern on his face amplifying the warm and fuzzy feeling inside her. She tilted her head a little, bringing his hands down to rest on her lap. "Can I kiss you?"

"I – what?" Immediately he felt like an idiot – he knew exactly what she'd said, and his heart was pounding in his throat and he had never wanted anything more. "I… Yeah. Yeah, you…" He stopped, because her arms were on his shoulders, a hand on his neck, her fingertips brushing over sensitive skin, and they were drawing together. Her lips met his softly, and his hands wrapped around her, spreading across her back, and he had never felt so completely at home.

When she pulled back, she said, "That can be Vegas, if you want. It can stay right here and we can totally pretend it never -"

He shook his head, stunned, as a slow smile spread on his face. "I don't think so."

"No?" she said, grinning, arching her eyebrows. "What do you think?"

"I think pretending it didn't happen would be a real shame," he said, some of the playfulness starting to come back into his voice as he realised this was really happening, she really felt the way he did.

"You know, I agree."

He laughed and kissed the tip of her nose. "I love you," he said, his voice low and soft.

"I love you too."

They'd exchanged those words so many times, and she got as far as opening her mouth to tell him it was different, that she meant it differently now, but she didn't know what to say. He smiled, hooked a finger under her chin and closed her mouth, pressed another kiss to her lips and said, "I know, sweetness."

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**Thank you again for reading - you're all wonderful. Please review :)**


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